


I fancied you'd return

by kiyala



Series: SASO 2016 [18]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're not exactly dating, but they make time for each other when they can, take time out of their own busy schedules when it works for both of them. These days, it's been Tooru, finding a handful of hours to spare here and there, dropping by with little to no warning, sweeping Takahiro away and into bed, pressing their lips together like no number of kisses in the world will do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I fancied you'd return

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this prompt](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/15224.html?thread=6666616#cmt6666616), title taken from _Mad Girl's Love Song_ by Sylvia Plath.

Tooru blows into Takahiro's life like a breeze passing through the city. Between a visit home to his family and his return back to Tokyo to try out for the national volleyball team, he somehow finds the time to find Takahiro; not at home but out at his favourite local bar, and Tooru has only been here once before, but he shows up all the same, winding his way through the crowd, placing his hand on Takahiro's shoulder to make his presence known.

It's familiar. Everything that Tooru does still feels achingly familiar and it's both a blessing and a curse. It reminds Takahiro that he still knows the man in front of him but at the same time, it's always so difficult to judge how much time has passed.

"I just ordered my first drink for the night," Takahiro complains, his lips against Tooru's ear.

"Well, gift it to that cute girl sitting on her own, over there," Tooru replies, nodding his head towards the one he's talking about. "At least someone will get to enjoy it that way. I'll make it worth your while."

Takahiro swallows back a sigh at that. He knows that Tooru always makes anything worth doing. He's good at that.

He catches the bartender's attention, tells her to give his drink to the girl, and leaves with Tooru without wasting another moment.

Tooru doesn't make conversation by asking Takahiro how he's doing or what he's been up to, because they keep each other updated on their lives so regularly anyway that there isn't any point. Instead, he launches right into the middle of a conversation, picking up from what has already been exchanged in messages.

"So, your boss thinks you're the greatest thing to ever have happened to his company," he says casually, and the tips of Takahiro's ears burn a little with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

"It's no big deal, I just organised a few things," Takahiro mumbles.

"You're still pretty amazing," Tooru tells him with a smile, and Takahiro is glad that the walk to his apartment is short, because it means that he can forestall any further praise by pushing Tooru into his apartment and shutting the door behind them.

He presses Tooru against the wall, kissing him hard, nipping at his lower lip.

"I don't wanna hear anything about being _amazing_ from a guy who's this close to playing setter for the national men's volleyball team," Takahiro murmurs as he pulls back for air, and then he kisses Tooru again, not giving him a chance to reply.

Tooru huffs in amusement, dragging his fingers through Takahiro's hair, tugging on the short strands in just the right way, making him moan into their kiss. Tooru's always known him far too well, even when they were in high school together, but they're familiar with each other's bodies in a way now that they weren't back then.

They don't really have a label for this, and Takahiro doesn't really think that they need one. They're not exactly dating, but they make time for each other when they can, take time out of their own busy schedules when it works for both of them. These days, it's been Tooru, finding a handful of hours to spare here and there, dropping by with little to no warning, sweeping Takahiro away and into bed, pressing their lips together like no number of kisses in the world will do. He leaves Takahiro so breathless that his head spins with it and the only thing he can do is keep up.

Perhaps he could refer to them as friends with benefits, the benefits being the way Tooru sucks marks onto Takahiro's shoulder, sitting hidden under his business shirts at work the next day, the way Tooru leaves bruises on Takahiro's arms and shoulders and hips in the shape of his fingers, the way that Tooru has him arching up off the bed with the simplest touch.

Tooru has always been about precision, and it shows in bed just the way it does on the court. He spreads Takahiro out on the bed, spreading his legs apart and kissing each knee as he bends it so he can settle between them. He slicks his fingers and he presses them into Takahiro, one by one, moving them slow and carefully. Every time his fingers just barely miss Takahiro's prostate, it's clearly deliberate. He leaves Takahiro panting, clutching at the sheets, trying his very best not to jerk his hips because it'll only result in Tooru making him wait for even longer.

"Do you want me to beg?" Takahiro asks, his voice trembling, "Because I can. I will. I learned from the best, after all."

"Flatterer," Tooru laughs, and the firm press of his fingers against Takahiro's prostate has him crying out, sweat prickling at the back of his neck, his cock lying hard and heavy against his stomach, aching to be touched. Tooru doesn't even need to the asked, reaching for it and stroking it, from base to head, back and forth, letting his thumb rub small circles over the very tip before he lets go.

"Tooru," Takahiro says, and his voice is tight, his legs are trembling a little, and his breath comes rushing out of him as Tooru pulls his fingers away.

He watches as Tooru rolls a condom on, loses himself in Tooru's eyes, darkened with desire.

He's certain he's lost himself in Tooru entirely, long ago. He sucks in a deep breath, just to let it out in a soft whine as Tooru pushes into him, and then their hands are finding each other, fingers interlocking, gripping each other tightly with the first roll of Tooru's hips.

It's not that they're overly tender with each other, but they've been good friends for so long that it's difficult not to let some of that affection show, even when they're in bed together like this. Tooru strokes his thumb over the back of Takahiro's hand, then fucks him hard enough that the bed's shaking and creaking with it, until they have to let go of each other's hands so they can both get better leverage. Takahiro hooks his hands under his knees, pulling his legs up, and Tooru holds onto his hips tightly enough to bruise, thrusting and thrusting, praise spilling from his lips like he isn't even conscious of it, like he has a backlog of every single thought he's had about Takahiro in their time apart and he needs to let it out right now.

Tooru is going to be the death of him, Takahiro thinks hazily. It might not be tonight, but eventually, it's going to happen and he's probably going to welcome it with open arms.

Takahiro comes first, arching off the bed, moaning so loudly that he's certain that his neighbours can hear, but he doesn't even care because Tooru is coming apart above him and it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. Tooru's eyes are squeezed shut and his lips are red and wet, parted as he moans softly, coming with one final thrust.

Tooru cleans them both up, telling Takahiro to stay in bed. Takahiro listens, smiling when Tooru crawls back into bed with him, their arms wrapping around each other, their lips seeking each other for a lazy kiss.

He knows that Tooru is going to be gone by the morning, like a dream that is quick to fade in the sunlight. He'll have the marks that Tooru's left behind on his skin, though. He'll leave traces of him behind in the lingering warmth of his body in Takahiro's bed, in the secretive smile that doesn't leave Takahiro's face for the next few weeks.

Then, there's always the unspoken promise hanging in the air of next time.


End file.
